Make An Impression
by Lavenderecho
Summary: What if Killian Jones never got away with taking Milah from Rumple? What if a mysterious challenger interrupts his encounter with Rumpelstiltskin? Based on the confrontation in episode 2x04 between Rumpel and Killian.


He stands on the deck of his ship, leaning against the railing, arms crossed over his chest. His sailors hauls a man to his feet, the husband of the woman he met in the tavern. She is hidden below deck, in his quarters precisely. Even before he was fully awake, she had come to the ship, nearly getting a knife in her gut for sneaking around in the night. He had managed to stop the blade before it pierced her skin and listened to her pleas. He is pleasantly surprised by her desire to sail, to see the world. Not many women have that type of spark in them. Milah does though.

"On your feet for the captain." They hand the crippled man his staff, then step back. His men respect him. He commands respect. What was his name again? Milah had said it once or twice. Rumple was what he had heard.

The husband stammers, pointing at him with a shaking hand, "I- I remember you. From the bar." It's almost too easy. He thought it would be a challenge to make the man leave without actually killing him. It would be much easier to just run him through with his sword, but he had promised the lady below deck to leave her son with his father. Even if his father was a coward.

He smirks, "It's always nice to make an impression." His men chuckle heartily and he allows himself a small grin. He continues, "Where are my manners? We haven't been formally introduced. Killian Jones." He starts to walk around Rumple. "Now, what are you doing aboard my ship?" Killian knows perfectly well what the coward is doing aboard his ship, but it will be fun to watch him stutter some more.

He is right. "Uh- Y-You have my wife."

"I've had many a man's wife."

"No, Y-you see, we have a son, and he needs his mother."

He's not sure how that is supposed to change his mind. Hadn't this man heard of the conscience that pirates lack? Besides, this mother did not wish to stay. He replies, walking forward, resting his hand on Rumple's shoulder, "You see, I have a ship full of men... who need... companionship." This draws leers and more laughter from the sailors.

"I'm begging you." He did like it when people begged. Not that he often listened. "Please let her go." Well, that wasn't quite begging. He had not thrown himself at Killian's feet.

"I'm not much for bartering. That said, I do consider myself a honorable man. A man with a code. So... you truly want your wife back?" The man nods, hope glistening in his eyes. He almost feels bad for doing this. Almost. He tosses a sword at the man's feet, it hits the deck. Rumple's breathing has sped up, he looks down at the sword, fear replacing that hope.

Killian has unsheathed his own blade, pointing it at the man, "All you have to do is take her." He speaks over the hyperventilating, "Never been in a duel before I take it." Gesturing with his sword he adds, "It's quite simple really. The pointy end goes in the other guy." Laughter again. He rests the tip of his sword lightly against Rumple's heart, "Go on, pick i-"

He sees a flash of silver, feels something skim past the side of his head, then hears a dull thunk behind him. He whirls around to see a dagger buried in the wooden post. Someone is hurrying onto the deck of the ship, wearing a hooded cloak, a scarf hiding everything but the eyes. Startling green eyes. A sword is already in his hands. He strolls aboard, a rather short man. But this one portrayed confidence. Killian has already forgotten about his victim who is cowering at the side of his ship, making room for the newcomer.

Killian tilts his head, "You realize that when you challenge me on my ship, you must abide by my rules for the duel? And I always fight to the death." He quick, short nod is all the confirmation he needs and he immediately launches his attack. This will be over quickly, and he slices down viciously, trying to cut the challenger clean through with a powerful downward stroke. Time seems to slow down and he smirks, the person has not even raised his sword yet to block. Victory is ensured, then the hand shifts just a bit and his blade rebounds off the hilt of his opponent's weapon.

His eyes narrow, although his grin broadens. Oh, it's been such a long time since he's faced someone who would prove even a bit challenging. His blood is pulsing now, and the two start their deadly dance. Each of his blows is quickly blocked then countered. His men have stopped their loud cheering of, "Captain! Kill 'em!" A silence has fallen on the deck of the ship, like everyone was holding their breath. The only sound is the clang of their swords clashing against each other.

There's something different about this challenger though. He is not quite able to match Killian's blows in terms of strength, but before Killian can complete his stroke the man has already shifted away so the blade passes harmlessly through thin air. He's light on his feet. There's not much power in this person, but there is definitely agility and grace.

Finally, by what seems to be sheer luck, Killian manages to draw blood from the other man. His sword cuts through the sleeve and bites into the right forearm. The blade would have cut clean through, leaving the other man with a bleeding stump, but he shifts away quickly, so instead of cutting down, it cuts diagonally. Killian smiles at the faint hiss of pain emitted, "I daresay I win. After all, you can't fight if you can't use your arm."

He trails off when his opponent shakes his head, transferring his weapon to his left hand. Killian barely has enough time to stop a brutal blow to his head, then suddenly he is on the defensive, buckling under the quick onslaught. What was this? What sort of demon was able to fight with both hands? Even as he struggles to keep up, he can't help but feel impressed by the wise choice his challenger had made. Learning to fight with both arms would ensure he could keep fighting even if one limb was injured. Then his sword is knocked from him and there are shouts when it clatters to the deck.

The point of the sword is pressed lightly against his throat. He swallows, "It's not often a man bests me in a duel. Allow me to see the face of the person who defeated me." He really wants to know. A gloved hand moves up to the hood, flinging it back. A halo of golden hair tumbles down, falling in silky strands to the waist.

His lips part in confusion, then the scarf is unwrapped as well. Lush pink lips, a cute nose, rosy cheekbones flushed from exertion. And the most beautiful of all those features, the sparkling emerald eyes which were sparkling with amusement. Her voice is beautiful, "Then your pride must've truly been wounded dear Captain. For you were not defeated by a man."

Killian manages to choke out, "You're a girl."

The pressure of the blade increases slightly against his throat, "Woman, and it's always nice to make an impression." there is a hint of laughter in her voice as she moves the sword up slightly, so he has to lift his chin to look at her, "Release the woman you have hidden away and I shall spare your life." The coward who had been pressed close to the side of the ship looks up. Killian grits his teeth, this was beyond humiliating. Not only was he defeated by this beauty in front of him, now Rumple would get what he came for. Death is almost welcome. He cannot die without knowing just who this woman was though.

He nods at Smee, "Release her." The sailor knows better than to question his order and hurries to the brig. Moments later, Milah is dragged forcibly onto the deck, then shoved towards Rumple. Killian sees the disgusted expression that flicks briefly over Milah's face as her husband sobs into her shoulder. She avoids looking at Killian as she walks off the ship, Rumple limping after her. The sharp point is removed from his throat and the blonde smiles, "Now that wasn't so hard was it?"

He stands up slowly, "Do you need your arm treated?" It's still dripping blood, a small pool of crimson gathering at her feet.

She shakes her head, "No. I'll just bind it. Another battle scar. Each one has a story." She looks around, "I best be going. I've intruded long enough." She makes it to the ramp before Killian finds his tongue.

"Wait! What's your name?" Why was she leaving? She couldn't leave. Not yet. Not when he still had so many questions. Who she was. How she had learned to fight. He needed answers. He wanted to know this woman.

"Emma Swan." then she is gone, hood back over her head, fading into the crowd.


End file.
